


maîtresse

by ameriboo



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Dancing, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, Jealousy, Mentor/Protégé, One Shot, Party, Personal Growth, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27078898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameriboo/pseuds/ameriboo
Summary: In the aftermath of Professor Oak's celebration, Misty reunites with her idol.
Relationships: Hanako | Delia Ketchum & Kasumi | Misty, Kanna | Lorelei | Prima & Kasumi | Misty, Kasumi | Misty & Kenji | Tracey Sketchit, Kasumi | Misty & Ookido Shigeru | Gary Oak, Kasumi | Misty & Sakura, Kasumi | Misty & Satoshi | Ash Ketchum, Kasumi | Misty & Takeshi | Brock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	maîtresse

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't own anything!
> 
> HAPPY MISTY APPRECIATION DAY! ! ! 
> 
> i love misty to the moon and back. she is such an important character to me and so many others. i could go on and on but it would be like TOO much. anyway, i wanted to dig into a little centric story that i like to consider part of her new beginning.

> _"Prima's my hero!"_
> 
> _"I'm a hero, am I?"_

_. . ._

Ash noticed that she hadn't touched her crepes and that was weird because they haven't eaten in forever and Misty _loved_ crepes. Hers were strawberry and Nutella. Her favorite!

"Hey Misty," he begins, swallowing his food after a large bite of spinach and cheese crepe. "Are you feeling okay?"

She hesitates, pursing her lips, and clenching her arms around Togepi a little tighter. Togepi's eyes peak up at his trainer, blinking at Misty with a curious expression that breaks into a soft smile.

Misty manages to smile back as Togepi does his best to lift her spirits. After all, Togepi knew her heart was okay. Just a little bruised. Today stung her, is all. Left Misty feeling the highs and lows of having something close enough to grasp yet miss you completely.

"I'm okay," she replies, twirling her mandarin and mango juice with her straw. "Today was long, huh?"

Ash's concern shifts into a cheeky grin. "That Prima sure is something. I hope I don't forget what she taught me."

Misty softens. A lot of good came from their day on Mandarin Island.

"You were right about her being pretty cool, too."

The young girl pauses, cutting a piece of her crepe and feeding it to Togepi. "Aren't I always?"

She is lost in her thoughts, recalling today's moments like a fever dream, caught between embarrassment, happiness, frustration—

Envy. Envy seeping into her like a familiar friend.

Prima Lorelei, her idol, swept in like the wind. She was everything Misty expected but more. Human but head in the clouds like untouchable pidgeot. She barely looked Misty's way—barely noticed her praises.

It wasn't too important, to be given attention by someone so idolized, and it wasn't like she was entitled to Prima's attention because she was a fan, but it made Misty sad anyway. Sort of in the shadows. Misty listened to Prima, poured her admiration; Ash screamed for a battle, quick to jump on the challenge.

Misty didn't even _think_ to ask for a battle like Ash. How could she possibly jump at the chance when she was so young, still so inexperienced? Prima was a MASTER! An elite in their world.

But Ash didn't care. Ash never cares about his place.

Ash saw Prima as a challenge and that's it. And he was rewarded for being himself, for demanding to be seen and heard. He was given advice, a battle, and a powerful message.

Prima taught him to look deep towards your inner strength. Prima didn't even take it easy on him—she saw him as an equal on the battlefield. The bittersweetness of seeing your friend experience something you've always dreamed about. But then there was this sense of pride she felt when she saw Ash realize how he needs to improve for not only his sake but for the sake of his pokémon.

Misty almost wanted to say something to Ash. To let him know how lucky he was for today, that he should take everything Prima taught him to heart but Misty grounds herself. On the other hand, she was lucky to even see Prima battle in person, to demonstrate her knowledge and skills. Hell, she was invited to Prima's home. Was there even a reason to feel sorry for herself? To compare herself to Ash?

Misty felt foolish for her thoughts. A sickening feeling in the swirling in her stomach reminding Misty to understand that there is no way she would want to go to bed like this. With this weight of negativity, the image of Ash shining under the island sun and Misty in the bleachers to the side cast by a shadow. She knows this journey is just as much as hers as it was Ash's and it was her responsibility to make it so. She'll take her thoughts to her journal later tonight in hopes the sickening feeling melts away with sleep. She'll find a corner, grab a flashlight, and write what she can.

"Did I miss anything?" Tracey chimes in, coming to the table carrying a tray of hot tea. The pokémon center slowing down around them as trainers and their partners ate dinner and prepared for the night.

Pulling herself together, giving Ash and Tracey a smile, she considers following Prima's mantra: that sometimes you need to go with the flow.

"Nothing," she insists, her chin tilts with the palm of her hand. "I was just telling Ash how cool he was out there today." It was the truth.

Ash squawks, so taken back by her compliment that he managed to choke a bit on the food, his cheeks full and turning rosy at the attention. Even as he adjusts his hat to cover his eyes, hiding part of his flushed face, his cheeky grin is not only contagious but a dead giveaway.

He glows under her praise.

Blowing at her cup of sleepy time tea and listening to how Tracey explains how difficult it was to get the right shading for Slowbro's curvy shell, Misty decides that she had just as much to learn.

. . .

"—so, I tell him, that not only is he wrong about ideal habitats for aerodactyl but that he is straight-up ugly."

"Gary, you told Foster he was ugly. To his face?"

Gary shrugs his shoulders, careful not to spill fruit juice on his umbreon hoodie. Misty finds the hood undeniably cute. It had ears. She considers stealing it from him. "Well, isn't he?"

Laughing into the palm of her hand, Misty pictures the look of bewilderment on Foster's face and the stress Gary must've caused when visiting his research facility. Gary and his high standards for fossil studies. "I shouldn't find that funny."

She would bet money that Foster was hiding in his cluster of Celadon University graduates, far away from Gary and his opinions on ancient pokémon and their environments. The costume party was bustling, the night rowdy with an abundance of trainers, researchers, coordinators, breeders, their pokémon, and anyone able to make it to the 30th anniversary of Professor Oak's Laboratory. A crowd of color characters wearing outfits based on a variety of pokémon, people and pokémon from every region. Prof. Oak, clad in a tauros inspired outfit, manages to drop his horns after Master Agatha, draped in a dark lavender ghastly-like willowy shaw, hits the back of his knee with her wooden cane. The old friends are cackling with each other, their faces flushed and red and a pair of awkward researchers orbit around the esteemed professor asking about his knees.

The gym leader and young researcher-in-training were under the large dome, fairy lights dripping from the ceiling, their backs against the bookshelves filled to the brim with countless scientific journals, encyclopedias, and art books. Tracey, sporting some red googles where his headband should be and a fuzzy purple sweater, breaks through the sea of cackling guests rushes to Misty and Gary looking distraught. A distraught venonat.

"Hi, Tracey—"

"How's the juice? Gary, have you tried the juice?"

"I'm literally drinking it right now, Trace."

"—Misty, thoughts on the finger sandwiches?"

"Delicious. Everything okay?"

Tracey lets out an exhausted sigh. "Well, I hope everything is okay! I've planned this party for weeks now and if everyone isn't having a good time or if the food isn't good then Prof. Oak will be disappointed!"

"No need to worry about gramps. He's off on his third cup of hard cider ready to recite his poems or cry about something mean Master Agatha said to him twenty years ago."

"Third cup? If he gets to his fifth, we have to shut this place down."

Misty pats Tracey on the shoulder. "Everything looks wonderful! You did a great job. Look, everyone even followed your theme!"

Tracey's venonat antennas shake. "Yeah?" He whimpers.

"Maybe you need some hard cider," she offers.

"Or something stronger." Gary pipes in.

"Hello!" A voice sings and Delia Ketchum, wearing two red poppies in her hair and a floral skirt exactly like bellossom, dances in with Mr. Mime behind her. "Don't you all look so cute! Misty, your corsola costume is to die for."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ketchum," she says her with a sweet smile, adjusting her coral headband on the top of her head and dust off any breadcrumbs from her matching pink and cream dress. "Your flowers are lovely."

Delia twirls with laughter, splashing some of her pink Moscato on the floor. "Oh, dear! Ahaha! Mimey, we might need a mop here."

"Mime mime!"

The pair scurry off only to be stopped by Florina Showers and Potter of the Xanadu Nursery who practically gushed over Delia's costume.

Gary chuckles, "I wish Ash was here to see his mom wine drunk."

Misty hits him playfully with her elbow. "Let her have fun!" He cracks a grin, eyeing Tracey as he scanned the room.

"Wow, you really are like a venonat."

The watcher shakes his head. "No, it's Brock—"

Misty sighs, setting aside her plate of snacks and ready to go get a young man sporting a ludicolo inspired poncho. "—What did he do know?"

Tracey lifts his chin higher, catching Brock try to maneuver himself away from the snack table but he was stopped by someone. A taller woman wearing a vileplume headdress is saying something to him, but Brock is frozen.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"I forgot Prof. Oak invited her."

Misty jumps in front of Tracey, lifting her head to see someone Brock undeniable did not want to see. "Oh _no_."

"Should I know what's going on?"

"Gary, it's a long story but blah blah Brock used to stay at Prof. Ivy's lab blah blah he left traumatized and can barely hear her name let alone look at her."

Gary grimaces, raising a curt eyebrow. "And this happened?"

"A couple of years ago give or take," Tracey answers.

"Years? Wow."

Misty frowns. "I'm going to go get him." She moves towards the sea of people, clad in furs and scales, and manages to slither out without a scratch. It wasn't surprising that Prof. Oak had connections across multiple regions. His work and his research lab influencing countless lives. Some she recognized; some just faces in the crowd.

She recognizes Prof. Ivy. Tall, dark violet hair and an air of nonchalance. Misty's gut twists as she catches Brock stiffen as Ivy went on and on, helping herself to a bottle of beer.

Misty calls for Brock's attention, "Hey—"

Heels clicked against the floor and a woman wearing a scarlet jynx inspired knee-length dress reaches for the researcher's arm. "Philena," the woman begins softly.

Misty's jaw drops, looking hard at the two women, her mind catching up with her eyes as it finally dawned on her that it's Prima. It's been a few years but that's Prima. For a second, Misty freezes up and feels instantly how weird they all were, just standing in front of each other. In truth, despite the urge to blurt out a sentence, Misty could barely manage a coherent thought because even if she has met her and sort of crushed her before, Prima Lorelei is still everything on the battlefield Misty wishes she could be.

Before Misty could even blink, Prima wraps her hand around her Ivy's forearm and turns towards the doors that led to the outside area. "If you would excuse us," she says, voice clear and even. Ivy smirks into her drink, waving a good-bye as the carmine-haired woman whisks her away. The younger girl blushes, peeking at the pair whisper to each other, their smiles almost as dangerous as how close they were. Ivy and Prima escape into their little world, meant for just the two of them as they trail out of sight.

Finally, Misty feels like she can breathe and Brock, a man brought back to reality, makes a defeated face. The best friends, in sync, share a look of bewilderment, utterly confused by what they just witnessed. "You okay?" She finally asks, her hand on Brock's back but he just slams his forehead against the wall repeatedly.

It makes Misty snort. "Alright then."

. . .

Misty wonders if it is improper to charge outside, run after Prima and shout at her, "I am Misty, the Cerulean City Gym Leader, and I want to learn everything you know."

Misty _knows_ it would be improper. So, surrounded by good friends and atmosphere, she grabs Brock by the arm and ushers him to the dance floor. At that moment, under the lanterns and colorful fairy lights, it is best to get redirect her attention and enjoy the moment. A funky oldie starts to play, so she shimmies her shoulders and tries to lead Brock, twirling him over and over till he cracks a grin.

Laughter uproars between them and this lightness she feels blooms within her, grateful that Brock's spirits lift to something brighter. She snorts at his attempt to mime a lasso, gesturing the invisible line to Tracey and Gary and "rope" them into the dance floor. Tracey bites the bullet and shuffles in, his moves quick and abstract. Coordinated like a true watcher. Gary, not frightened of the spotlight but still composed, is a little harder to convince. Despite his reluctance, Misty offers her hand to which he tilts his head, cracking a half-smile, viridian eyes curious.

With a roll of his shoulders, Gary utters a what the hell and gives her his hand. Misty, smirking like a devil, brings him to her and twirls him into her arms, dipping him at the beat drop. She winks down at the brunette and his shocked face splits into wholehearted laughter. They pull apart and find Brock and Tracey coordinating a foot shake. Misty doubles over and cracks a large grin, cheering her friends on as she jumped up and down in electric excitement. Eventually, Prof. Oak makes a rowdy noise like a charging tauros and bumps his hip against Gary's hip, knocking his grandson off his feet only to be caught by an incoming Delia. Delia spins Gary and wraps her arm around Misty's elbow, leading a new dance as the music transitioned into an upbeat melody.

Misty's mind sparks and thinks of Ash. If he was here, decked out in a pikachu costume with red circles painted on his cheeks, howling as Brock perfected a handstand. Maybe he would've been a caterpie or charizard instead. Probably would be dying of embarrassment as Delia partied harder than everyone. But Ash is halfway across the world, being missed by so many people here, people that love him. Being missed by her. She who thinks of him, that loves him.

Full of tingles, Misty leaps into the air, grabbing her friends by their heartstrings, and dances with them like it was their last night on earth.

. . .

"Misty," Brock cries out her name, wrapping his arms around her neck and planting his cheek on top of her head knocking her headband to the floor. "I love you. You are my best friend and I am going to provide your pokémon free treatment for the rest of your life the minute I become a doctor."

"Brock, I love you too, but you do know they get free treatment now right?"

"Shhhhhhh. We hug."

. . .

The crowd shrinks as the night grows older. The dance floor had a few stray slow dancers. The snack table left with some desserts. There was an intellectual debate happening to the side. A few old heads knocking bottles of sake together as they went on and on about the philosophy of training. Master Agatha, sitting straight in her chair, stomps her heel to the ground then states her opinion like it is truth. Leader Blaine, wearing a magmar mask, claps loudly at her words while Elite Four Koga shakes his head, his crobat wings slightly deflated. Prof. Oak is in the middle of them, interrupting her and standing up on his wooden chair, preparing to recite a poem by the looks of him digging into his pocket. Gary sighs at his grandfather as Tracey scurries into worry, encircling the older gentleman and begging him to get the hell down before he hurts himself. Agatha instructs Tracey to give up and let the "old fool" fall to his ass.

Misty, far sleepier than she expected herself to be, cracks a smile at the display and wonders about her generation. What will she look like in the far future? Would she ever be caught in late-night debates with old friends after their celebrations? Messy, senile, and heavy with wisdom and battle scars. Admiring the life around her, Misty hoped so. Maybe someday if they were lucky.

Tonight, Brock and Misty are staying at the Ketchum house. Misty can already taste the cherry tomatoes she is going to sneakily sample from Delia's garden.

"Samuel Oak, you'll never change!" Delia half-shouts, her coat in hand. Misty is at her side, half-asleep. "Tracey, Gary, I expect both of you will make sure that he makes it to breakfast tomorrow in one piece."

Tracey nods furiously, his goggles knocked off his head as Prof. Oak used Tracey for balance.

“Gramps, please!” Gary shouts as he walks over. "Of course, Mrs. Ketchum," he answers, stretching his arms behind his head. "He might be hungover, but I won't be missing any pancakes."

Delia smiles, cradling Gary's cheek in her motherly fashion. "I'm thinking blueberry?"

Misty makes an excited hum. " _Yum._ That sounds delicious."

"It's settled then. Now, to find Brock…"

"He said he'll meet us out front. He just has to wrap up some of the leftover cupcakes for his brothers and sisters."

"Wonderful—ah wait! Mimey! Oh no…I left him by the cleaning closest an hour ago. Probably mopped half the lab by now! Gary honey, don't forget breakfast tomorrow at nine!" She turns to Misty. "I'll meet you outside, sweetie!" Delia turns away, her flower petals shaking.

Misty and Gary watch in amusement as the woman rushes down the hall. "Her energy is undefeated," Gary remarks.

"I'm jealous," she says, yawning into her hand. "Sorry! I'm just ready for bed."

"Head on out of here before the old man wants to recite a water pokémon haiku for you."

She huffs a curt laugh at the thought. "Now I'm tempted to stay." Misty turns to leave, looking over her shoulder. "Goodnight, Gary."

He smiles, lifting his hand to gesture goodbye. "Goodnight, Misty."

"Goodnight, Prof. Oak, Tracey! Everyone! Great party! See you tomorrow!" She shouts, her voice loud enough to hear over Oak's drunken laughter.

"Goodnight, dear!" The older gentleman sings, crashing on top of Tracey who cries out his goodnight.

Her coral pink dress rustles with each step. Making her way past the corridor to outside, she admires the countless stars as she waits for Brock and Delia. Stars are rare in Cerulean but in Pallet they shine in endless clusters.

A breeze sends a shiver down her spine and a grassy scent to hit her senses. The lab higher than most building in Pallet Town, granting it fresh air and an endless view of the great plains below. The far but gentle hum of bug pokémon buzzing sends a less inviting tingle down her spine.

"Ew," she whispers to herself, shutting her eyes so she can concentrate on shaking off her nerves, rubbing her arms to feel a different sensation that she is in control of.

"Bad night?"

Misty blinks. She recognizes that voice. Looking around, she doesn't spot anyone by the staircase or by the entrance. She takes a step forward, ocean eyes trailing the side of the hill that the lab was planted on top of. Prima, twirling her glass of red wine, sits on the grassy slope with her face looking up towards the sky. The girl nearly did a double take when she recognized the pokémon master casually star gazing.

 _Did I ruin the mood?_ Misty thinks to herself. And there goes her nerves again.

"It's been a great night actually," she admits. "I just know bug types when I hear them is all."

Prima twists her head around, her glasses somewhat foggy. "You don't like bug pokémon."

Misty shakes her head, her throat begging to tighten. It's been so long since she last saw Prima. Countless things have changed, as well as many great adventures have ended. She always wondered if she would ever get the chance to see Prima again. Daydreaming about the conversation they would have and the stories she could tell over coffee or tea or even beer in some of the daydreams. Those are the ones where they are colleagues. She could tell her everything she meant to say during her and the boys time on Mandarin Island.

But now, Misty is tired from dancing, red bean jelly shoved down her throat by Erika, gorgeous in a sunflora patterned yukata and being swung in the air by a jitterbug crazed Lt. Surge in an electivire onesie. All she can hope for is a warm bed, a tall glass of cold water, and warm butter on her blueberry pancakes tomorrow morning.

She lets out a brief sigh, rolling her lip between her teeth. "I'm terrified of them."

Prima's mouth is soft, smiling slightly. Almost detached.

Misty gulps. "I train—"

"Water pokémon," the older woman finishes. "You're the Cerulean City Gym Leader now."

It hits her that she is more than just an ocean-hearted girl with an affinity for water types to the world, that she carries a title recognizable by even the greats. After all, they all started challenging gym leaders and collecting badges themselves.

Misty remembers that despite everything, she is still her and she is _proud_. Straightening her back, her hand on her hip, Misty manages to crack a bold smile. "Yes, that's right."

Prima chugs the rest of her red wine, tipping her glass to the skies. "To Cerulean," she announces like an empress to her gladiators. "A city that gives birth to love as frequent as the moon controls the tides."

She remembers Prima's approach to life and way of tongue. Nonsensical to some, poetic and intellectual to most. Admiring Prima's style, free-flowing and one with the wind, Misty tilts her lips.

"That's lovely," she tells her. "And accurate. We do have the highest birthrate in Kanto."

Prima tilts her head back in laughter. "Ah! What a place!"

Her eyes sparkle in pure excitement. "You should visit our gym!"

Prima lifts an eyebrow. "Are you inviting me to battle?"

As if a record scratched. Misty realizes what she meant, her stomach dropping as she internally questions herself, and the capability of her big fat mouth. Clenching her jaw, she jolts back in hopes of not offending the master trainer.

And then Misty considers the possibility of Prima accepting a challenge. Her mind flashes with the image of Ash and Pikachu being overtaken by Cloyster's Aurora Beam.

Crazier things have happened.

"Actually," Misty begins, her hands molding into fists, "I wanted to show you the gym. And my pokémon. Get your opinion, of course. I didn't really get to show you last time."

"I see." The woman adjusts herself and gets to her feet.

Misty's mouth goes dry. "But—" She swallows, her teal eyes blazing down at the woman. "I would accept your challenge as the Leader of the Cerulean City Gym!"

The wind blows against them. Prima stares at her for a moment before her wine-stained mouth curls into a smile. Laughter louder than Misty would ever expect from Prima escapes from her and Misty's eyes go a little wide because it was more of a roar than a laugh really. And it was directed at her, yet she doesn't feel as small as she should have. Years of being the butt of plenty of jokes, mostly at the hands of her sisters, have eased some of the stings.

Misty can take people laughing at her.

Prima takes a moment to adjust her glasses, her shoulders shaking slightly as her laughter ceased. The elite trainer's eyes turn to icy slits, her blood-red nail polished finger tapping against her cheek as her face stills, observing Misty. Carefully, her expression technical. As if Misty was on the dissection table and Prima held the scalpel over her skin, preparing fuel for one of her lectures.

Teeth unclenched; vulnerable, the younger trainer opens her mouth, still sweet from the countless drinks and desserts, but is interrupted by the sound of someone calling her name.

"Misty!" The voice repeats.

She blinks. "That's Brock."

"You don't want to keep your friends waiting," Prima tells Misty, her expression peaceful and polite. Not as dangerously fierce.

"Right," she nods, feeling slightly uneasy. "Goodnight then."

"Take care, Misty," Prima responds, turning back to the sky.

Misty leaves Prima to the night, finding Delia and Brock wearing open smiles for her.

. . .

A week has passed, and she is on break, stressed, and coping with a large sea salt caramel mocha frappuccino from Arbucks. Technically, it was her second. Daisy took a sip of the one she ordered, realized it wasn't nonfat, and handed it off to her younger sister.

All of the pokémon have been fed, Gyarados is wearing his alignment brace for his neck courtesy of the Lake Lucid Nurse Joy, the juice boxes for all the local kids swim lesson tomorrow have been chilled, and Misty was on a video call with Sakura.

Sakura was in Nimbasa City, Unova. Challenging the Unova League was one thing, but after nonchalantly telling some random woman about her Johto heritage and being the youngest of the renowned Kimono Sisters, Sakura got pulled into a whirlwind of opportunities. Now, she was prepping for her tea ceremony presentation after dance practice.

At first, Sakura was reluctant to perform her family's traditions to an audience. After careful consideration and fighting for a say in every aspect of the show, she began holding performances on the weekends at the New Nimbasa Theatre. With her espeon, Sakura spreads the Johto traditions of tea ceremonies, ikebana, the shamisen, and dancing _jinta mai_.

Misty's Sakura has become a star.

"When are you going to fly me out to see your show?" Misty mentions, her smile cheeky.

"The minute you get a break longer than two days!"

Misty's face falls and her head hangs low. "I'm _never_ going to get to see you!" She cries out, taking a sip of her frappuccino.

Sakura chuckles at her friend. "You will! We'll make it happen! You would adore Unova."

She sighs. "It sounds wonderful honestly. Plus, it has you and I miss you of course."

"Of course."

"Yes," Misty tightens her first, eyes shimmering. "Next vacation time I get, I'm heading your way."

"Ash is going to be soooo jealous the minute he finds out that I was able to get you to come out here."

The gym leader giggles. "Well, as much as I wanted to go when he was there, it was just super inconvenient for both of us. I did cry though when he described Casteliacones and how otherworldly they are."

" _Oh_ ," Sakura pauses, "they are worth every minute in that stupid line."

"Ahhh! I'm jealous! Okay, we are making this happen," she finishes her sentence with another sip.

"That's your second frappuccino?"

"Uh-huh."

"…And you don't feel sick to your stomach?"

"Nope. Nuh huh."

Sakura gasps. "You frighten me."

Misty snorts at Sakura's expression, hearing thudding footsteps and watching Psyduck waddle his way over to her. "Psyyyyy! Psy psy."

"One minute, Sakura—no, you can't have any," she turns and informs him. "You remember what happened last time." Whipped cream and Psyduck are not compatible.

Psyduck shakes his head and reaches for Misty's hand, his bill pointing to the direction that leads to main pool.

"Sakura, I'll call you back later, k? Somethings up with Psyduck."

"Sounds good," Sakura says with a wave. "Drink water please okay byeeee."

"Yes okay! Bye!" The video flickers to black.

Misty stands and follows Psyduck out the door, one hand holding her drink while the other hidden in the pocket of her Official Pokemon League letterman jacket. A deep blue and white color, a cascade Badge patch sewed on the right sleeve, and CERULEAN CITY GYM embroidered on the back encircling a classic poke ball. Decorated with a few of Misty's favorite pins: her replica boulder badge, a holographic pikachu face she found at a thrift store, her mini lure ball pin, and a clay "Misty the Magical Mermaid" pin that one of her fans sent her based off her old performance. Her jacket easily became a staple part of her wardrobe on slow days.

Psyduck leads her to the pool area, bringing Misty to trip slightly on the water tile. "Shit," she says as she spills some whipped cream from her straw onto the front of her jacket. Wiping it off her jacket, she fails to notice something off about the pool. The face there was a giant lapras casually swimming in the middle of it. She didn't have a lapras. Neither did Daisy, Lily, or Violet.

Not that she would complain if a random lapras magically made its way to her gym, but it was still strange.

Lapras lifts its head with grace, eyeing Misty.

"You know I barely recognize this place," a calm voice says from the bleachers. Misty's head shoots up to find the intruder, legs crossed, sitting on her bleachers. The woman takes a stand, jumping from the bleachers to in front of Misty and Psyduck in a flash of red and black.

Misty's drink drops and becomes a melted mess on the tile.

Prima looks down at the mess then at the younger girl's shocked face. "Misty. That's a shame."

"Prima?! What are you doing here?"

"Was I not invited?" She quirks her glasses, turning to face the pool. "Lapras wanted a quick swim to warm-up didn't you, love?" Lapras's melodic voice cries out in response.

Misty catches on fast. She can't even conceal the smile that breaks across her face, grinning so hard that her cheeks ache. "Are you serious?" She asks wholeheartedly, blinking rapid fire.

The woman's glasses glare. "I am serious," she replies, the tone of her voice chilling. Prima crosses her arms under her chest, and with a click of a button, a poke ball expands in her hand.

"But are you ready?"

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you liked! what you expected! feel free to comment anyway or if you just want to cry about misty like i completely understand. xoxo love you all.


End file.
